Once Every Ten Years
by Angelic Guardian
Summary: "I missed high Jess? Now I have to wait another ten years?" Oneshot.


**Author's Note:** Enjoy cruising the Ness express with this future fic. :)

 **Disclaimer:** New Girl © Elizabeth Meriwether

* * *

"Kids are spending the weekend with Grandpa," Jess said.

"No work for either of us 'til Monday," Nick said.

"Cleared our social calendar for the whole weekend."

"Pantry is stocked with snacks."

"So, to recap, no kids, no work, no social obligations, no responsibilities whatsoever for the next two days," Jess said. "Just you, me…"

"…and a couple of marijuana-laced gummy candies!" Nick said, holding up a tiny bag containing the drug-infused treats.

A mischievous grin spread widely across Jess' face as Nick collapsed next to her on the couch.

"I've waited ten long years to meet high Jess," he said as he opened the bag and dropped one of the candies into Jess' open palm. "So, needless to say, my level of excitement for this moment is quite _high."_

"Believe you me, high Jess cannot wait to meet you, either," Jess said with a playful wink.

She brought the candy to her mouth and gave it a lick, raising her eyebrows suggestively. The way Nick's eyes popped made her erupt into a shameless giggle, but before any mischief could truly commence, Nick's cell phone rang. He fished inside his pocket and withdrew his phone, only to cast his eyes to the ceiling and release an annoyed sigh.

"Schmidt," he said.

Jess groaned as well. "Better see what he wants now so he doesn't bug you all night," she said, squishing the sugar-coated candy between her fingers. "We need to be undisturbed."

"Way ahead of ya," Nick said, answering the call. "What, Schmidt?"

"Well, hello to you, too," Schmidt said, perturbed. "Really, Nick, it's called common courtesy. Just because we're best friends doesn't give you the right to speak to me like a caveperson. Yes, person. Not man. Get with the times."

 _"What do you want?"_ Nick asked.

"There is no need to shout," Schmidt said. "All it does is damage my eardrums and make that nasty vein pop out of your neck. I can picture it now. All long and throbbing. Gruesome."

"I'm hanging up," Nick said.

"No, you're not," Schmidt said. "Chase. Cutting to it. I need you and Jess to watch Schmidt Jr. tonight."

"What? Why?" Nick asked.

"As I doubt you remember, let alone even care, which profoundly hurts me, but I digress, allow me to bring you up to speed," Schmidt said. "Next week marks Cece's and my ten-year wedding anniversary. Tonight is part one of a seven-part celebration I've got planned. I'm surprising her with a spa getaway for just the two of us. Yes, there will be couples massages, and yes, there will be illicit, sensual hot tub sex. It's an overnight trip, hence, Schmidt Jr. will need to spend the night."

 _"What?"_ Nick said, getting to his feet now. "No, Schmidt, listen to me. You know Jess and I are always willing to watch him, but tonight's not going to work. You can't just drop this on us as if we don't have plans of our own."

"Oh, yes, I'm terribly sorry to interrupt your thrilling plans, which I'm sure consist of you and Jess eating homemade macaroni and cheese and making love to each other on your couch all night long," Schmidt said. "Look, I've got no one else to look after him, so this is happening. Schmidt Jr. will be over in a half hour. That'll give you plenty of time to give Jess the ol' Nick Miller shish kebab, what, two times? Perhaps three, if you skip the grade-school level foreplay?"

"What the hell is wrong with you—"

"You're right. I was being generous with that number. We all know you barely have the stamina to go twice without needing to take a break to load up on carbs as if you're preparing to run a marathon," Schmidt said, and he chuckled. "You, a runner. What a far-fetched thought. I crack me up. Anyway, thank you _so_ much for agreeing to do this for us, Nick. You really are the greatest friend a devilishly handsome guy like me could ask for. Love you."

"At no point in this conversation did I say we would do it, Schmidt, and you'd better not pretend like you can't hear me right now and hang up on me—"

Schmidt hung up on him, and the line went silent. Nick's shoulders sank with a long, defeated exhale. He dragged a hand down his face and turned to Jess, dropping his gaze, already reluctant to deliver the not-so-great news.

"So, change of plans… We have to watch our godson tonight, so it looks like we're gonna have to hold off on—"

He cut himself off when he looked up at Jess, whose eyes had grown impossibly wide. Her lips were puckered, and, most troubling of all, the candy was nowhere in sight.

 _"You already ate it?"_ Nick asked in a flood of panic.

Jess slapped her hands over her cheeks. "I'm _sorry,"_ she said, her voice muffled against the heels of her palms.

"Oh, my god, what are we going to—oh, crap, we have to get rid of this one, too," Nick said, holding up his uneaten candy. "Let's see, we should probably just—"

Before he could do anything, Jess leapt up from the couch, snatched the candy out of his hand and popped it into her mouth. Nick's mouth fell open as she relentlessly chewed on the gummy candy and swallowed it.

"Have you _lost_ your beautiful mind, Jessica?" Nick said, all but shrieking at the top of his lungs.

"I couldn't risk it, Nick, I'm sorry!" Jess said, fisting her hands into her hair for a second, only to let go. "If Schmidt Jr. found that candy and ate it, our asses would have been _grass!_ Yes, grass, but no time to appreciate the clever pot joke! Oh, god, Nick, what did I just do? I'm going to get _twice_ as high now! What is wrong with me? I think I'm already starting to feel it!"

"You're not—okay, look. Take a deep breath. Relax. Let's just both take a second to relax, okay?" Nick said. He grasped Jess' hands, which she'd pressed against her hyperventilating chest, and at last, her breathing gradually steadied. "Now, listen. You ate the pot candies. They're gone. We can't do anything about it now. The good news is, you've still got at least a half hour or so before they kick in, hopefully longer if we're lucky. So, until then, we can work out a plan, figure out how we're going to entertain Schmidt Jr. for the night. We can do this. Okay?"

The once frightful look in Jess' eyes had completely melted away thanks to Nick's calming words, bringing forth a much-needed moment of tranquility for both of them. She leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

"We can do this," she said confidently.

Nick smiled at her.

* * *

Half an hour later, their doorbell rang, and Nick opened the door to find Schmidt Jr., as promised, ready to spend the night. The young boy clutched the handle of a small suitcase. He had his mother's caramel skin and his father's untouchable swagger.

"There he is!" Nick said with an overly enthusiastic grin, stretching out a welcoming arm. "How've ya been, pal? Say, did you get taller since I've last seen you?"

"Don't patronize me, Uncle Nick," Schmidt Jr. said, tone clipped, as he let himself in. "You know very well I haven't gotten taller since you last saw me, which was a week ago, at my fly-as-hell eighth birthday party, need I remind you. Then again, Dad did warn me your memory's starting to slip, so I guess I _did_ have to remind you." He paused, taking a look around. "Where's Jackie and Reginald?"

"They're spending the weekend with their grandpa up in Oregon, so it looks like it's just gonna be me and you tonight, bud," Nick said as he shut the door.

"What about Aunt Jess?" Schmidt Jr. asked, skepticism in his voice, when suddenly his brown eyes bulged in horror. "Holy crap, did you _kill_ her?"

 _"What?"_ Nick asked, and at that exact moment, there was a crash of metal pots and pans in the kitchen, startling the both of them. They shared a look, Schmidt Jr.'s eyes narrowing accusingly at Nick, who held up a hand. "You wait here. I'm gonna go check on Aunt Jess. And, by the way, your parents should seriously stop letting you watch all those crime shows. They screw with your head."

With that, Nick crossed the living room and pushed open the door leading to their kitchen. He halted when he found Jess, staring blankly out the window, her lips parted, her eyes round and unblinking, a couple of pots and pans scattered across the floor. She didn't move at all, not even as he approached her.

"Jess?" Nick said warily. "Hey, Jess, honey? Are you okay? Has the…you-know-what hit you yet?"

He was right beside her now. She slowly turned her head to meet his gaze, not saying a word. She blinked once, twice, staring at him with that same expressionless countenance, like a zombie, a look that filled Nick with utter dread.

"Jessica," he said, as calmly as he could manage in the midst of his growing alarm. He reached out to touch her shoulder, only to hesitate, as he didn't want to scare her. Instead, already knowing the answer, he asked, "You're feeling it, aren't you?"

There was another painful second of eerie silence from her, and then, all of a sudden, she burst out laughing. It was a full-on guffaw, loud and uncontrollable. Nick blew out an exasperated breath in spite himself, as he knew he was in for a long night. Still, he was relieved to know she wasn't comatose. Clasping both of his hands against her shoulders now, he used any ounce of patience he could dredge up as he waited until she stopped laughing over nothing.

"Hey," he said. "Hey, listen to me. Schmidt Jr. just got here, so you need to be very careful and remember our plan, okay? You stay here, and I'll keep him busy, remember? Do you understand me? Tell me you understand me."

Jess' facial expression hardened into a look of concentration, brow furrowing and eyes crinkling, as she reached up and grasped Nick's face in both her hands.

"Your face," she said, running her palms up and down his stubbled cheeks, "feels so rough. Like a cactus. A _cactus._ Wow. How do you even grow facial hair? Do you have to water your face?"

"Look, as much as I'd love to stay here and have this enthralling conversation with you, we honestly don't have time for this right now," Nick said, gently pulling her hands off his face. He released her long enough to pick up the stray cookware from the floor, shoving them back into one of the cabinets. "Do you even remember why you were taking these out?"

"Hmm…yes," Jess said. "I want to bake a cake, and then, I'm going to write the word 'cake' on it, so that people will know it's a cake. That's a really good idea, right, Nick?"

"Yes, that is a brilliant idea, Jess, now how about we get you to—"

She placed her hand on his face again, this time pressing it flat against his mouth. A sly grin stretched across her face once more as she leaned in dangerously close to him, now trailing a single finger over his lips.

"You are so _sexy,"_ she said, letting her hand snake down towards his chest. "I just want to kiss you and touch you and make love to you for twelve hours straight."

"Holy shit, high Jess is _horny?"_ Nick said in disbelief. For a moment, all he could do was stand there as Jess blatantly felt him up, a shallow breath escaping him. "You're killin' me here."

"High and horny go hand-in-hand," Jess said, and suddenly she gasped. "Oh, my god. Nick. Write that down before I forget it. That is a beautiful song lyric."

"Wow, okay, seriously, you have no idea how badly I want to explore the wonders of your brain right now, but we can't do this with Schmidt and Cece's son in our house," Nick said. "Trust me, though, Schmidt will pay for this."

 _"Fine,"_ Jess said in her own fit of exasperation, though it still didn't stop her from wrapping her arms around the back of his neck. "Can we at least kiss for twelve hours, right now?"

"Sure, okay, twelve hours," Nick said. "C'mere, gorgeous."

He smoothly pulled her in, their lips connecting in a long, tantalizing kiss. Jess let out a faint moan, one that reverberated between their fused lips, driving Nick up the wall as he bit back a moan of his own. At some point, she hooked her leg around his waist, and it took all his willpower and then some to draw back from the kiss before it got too heated, leaving her hypnotic blue eyes gleaming with lust.

 _"Wow,"_ she said breathlessly. "That was even _longer_ than twelve hours."

"It was actually more like twelve seconds," Nick said. "And I've never loved you more right now."

"Aunt Jess!" Schmidt Jr. cried from the living room. "What's going on in there? Is Uncle Nick taking advantage of you? Not on my watch!"

"Schmidt Jr.'s here!" Jess said, breaking out of Nick's arms and scurrying off to the living room before he could stop her.

"This isn't part of the plan!"

He hurried after Jess, pushing open the door to find her rushing up to Schmidt Jr. She threw her arms around him in a hearty embrace. Schmidt Jr.'s arms stayed limp at his sides, but an impish grin slid across his face, one that was gone by the time Jess pulled back from the hug.

"You are one _coooool_ dude, you know that?" she said.

Schmidt Jr. slicked his hair back. "Tell me something I don't know," he said with an air of smug charm.

"Ooh, fun game," Jess said. She tapped her index finger to her cheek, giving it some thought. "Okay, I've got a good one. Did you know, according to your dad, you were conceived on—"

 _"Okay,"_ Nick said, stepping in. "Let's not corrupt the semi-innocent mind of our best friends' only kid, shall we? So, listen, Schmidt Jr., how about you and me go play some video games, huh?"

Schmidt Jr. scoffed. "Mindless, violent video games? Really, Uncle Nick? Now you're just being rude. You should know by now that I have a much more advanced taste when it comes to entertainment."

"Yeah, well, I was there when you crapped in the tub when you were a baby, so get off your high horse, kid, you're not that sophisticated," Nick said.

Jess let out a breathless snicker, clutching at Nick's wrist, while Schmidt Jr. folded his arms, unpleased.

"Ha, ha, let's all laugh at Schmidt Jr.," he said.

"It honestly frightens me how similar you are to your father," Nick said.

"Is that so?" Schmidt Jr. asked. "If you think you know me so well, Uncle Nick, then guess what I wanna do right now."

"I wanna play!" Jess said, throwing her hand in the air. "Let me see. Let…me…see…" She tapped a finger to her cheek once again, humming in thought, the sound drifting through the room for a noticeably long period of time, when she finally said, "Shoe shopping?"

"Ordinarily, yes, but I just got these fresh kicks for my birthday," Schmidt Jr. said, pointing to his new sneakers. "I want to break them in. Could we go to the boardwalk?"

"Yes!" Jess said, grabbing his hand. "Let's go, little Schmidt."

"Hey, I'm not little! I'm slender," Schmidt Jr. said as Jess dragged him to the front door. "And, for the record, I already know how I was conceived. Dad used to tell it to me as a bedtime story."

"Of course he did," Nick said. "Hold on, I'm coming with you two."

"You're not going anywhere until you change out of that hideous shirt," Schmidt Jr. said. "Looks like a homeless person's picnic blanket."

Nick let out a sardonic laugh, only to cut it short. "Shut the hell up and let's go."

* * *

The boardwalk was filled with happy families riding their bikes, people walking their dogs, joggers out for a run. Waves crashed in the distance as seagulls flew about, ready to swoop down for a dropped piece of food. The sun was setting in the sky, casting a beautiful ray of warm colors, and there was a gentle breeze in the air. A perfect evening.

Schmidt Jr. walked along the boardwalk, flashing a beguiling smile at anyone who looked his way. Nick trailed a few feet behind, keeping a protective eye on Jess, who seemed to be particularly mesmerized by all the sights and sounds around her.

"Nick," she said out of nowhere. "You know what I could go for right now? A jar of pickles. Like, actual pickles."

"As opposed to figurative pickles?" Nick asked.

Jess snorted. "You're hilarious. And hot." She drew in a sharp breath. "I just got a great idea. Hey, Schmidt Jr., you wanna race?"

Schmidt Jr. stopped, turning around to look at Jess with a wicked grin. "You really think you can out run me?"

"Jessica Day-Miller says, screw you, little boy, you're going down!"

"Now, wait a— _shit!"_ Nick said.

Jess had taken off in a flurry of flying hair and tiny fists. Nick took off after her, breezing right past a perplexed Schmidt Jr., who simply came to a stop and watched them run away like a couple of maniacs. Jess was gaining speed as she bolted down the boardwalk, running past unsuspecting pedestrians as Nick desperately struggled to keep up.

"I'm…too old…for this!"

Needing to pause and catch his breath, Nick slumped against a lamp post, placing his hands on his knees as he shut his eyes and panted hard. The sound of Jess shrieking managed to draw more unwanted attention, and the next thing he knew, a tall, skinny guy was chasing after him, shouting, "Pervert!"

Nick snapped his eyes open to see the guy running towards him at full speed. "No, no, no, you don't understand, she's my wife—"

His high-pitched scream pierced through the air as the man tackled him to the ground. Upon hearing the commotion, Jess came to a stop, whipping around to see the brutal attack unfolding before her eyes.

"Hey! Hands off my husband!" she said, and she released a wild cry as she ran back at lightning speed and jumped on top of the man, kicking and flailing.

At that point, all hell had broken loose. Frightened children screamed, while a growing crowd of people attempted to break up the fight. As the pandemonium escalated, it wasn't long before someone called the cops to put a stop to the whole thing.

"Hey, Uncle Winston? It's Schmidt Jr. We have a situation here…"

* * *

After long-winded explanations were given and no charges were pressed, Winston left his friends with a stern "What am I going to do with you two?" and thankfully, that was the end of the whole fiasco. Later that night, Jess lay in bed with Nick, who winced as he rubbed his strained shoulder.

"Nick," she said, the effects of the drugs having substantially worn off. "I'm really, really sorry about today. High Jess is a handful."

Despite everything, Nick flashed a warm grin. "It's okay, beautiful. Honestly, that was more or less how I expected it would go. Although, I gotta say, high Jess is surprisingly energetic. And kind of dangerous. But in a sexy way."

Jess chuckled as she reached over and skimmed her fingers through Nick's hair. She leaned in, pressing her lips to his in a deep kiss, only for Nick to momentarily break it.

"Y'know, maybe we should hold off tonight. I don't want to be responsible for scarring Schmidt Jr. for life. At least, not any more than he already is."

"Trust me, we won't have to worry about him," Jess said. "He'll be distracted for the rest of the night."

"What do you mean?" Nick asked.

Jess suddenly averted her gaze, slinking away in embarrassment. "Well…"

* * *

Schmidt Jr. stood near Jess, who munched on a pickle, while Nick chatted with Winston after smoothing everything over.

"Mmm," she said, moaning contently. "This thing is so juicy. And I don't mean that in a sexual way, so don't get any ideas."

"Aunt Jess, you're high right now, aren't you?" Schmidt Jr. asked.

Jess paused, looking completely horrified for a second. "What? No. Definitely not. Definitely, _definitely…_ How'd you know?"

"'Cause I'm smart, duh," Schmidt Jr. said. "Also, I was eavesdropping while you and Uncle Nick were in the kitchen earlier."

"Why, you sneaky little son of a…nope, I'm not going to say 'bitch' because that would be insulting your mother, and she is an amazing human being whom I love dearly," Jess said. "Look, I'll make you a deal. You don't tell your parents, and I'll let you watch all the TV you want tonight, unsupervised."

Schmidt Jr.'s eyes lit up. "Deal!"

* * *

Nick shook his head. "Jessica Day-Miller…doing drugs, getting the cops called on us, bribing young children… Since when did you get to be so naughty?"

"I could get even naughtier than that," Jess said, slipping her arms around the back of his neck.

"Oh, yeah?" Nick said, a familiar smirk finding its way to his lips. "Then, prove it."

Jess promptly tugged him down, kissing him flush on the lips as she pulled him on top of her, ready to do just that.


End file.
